


no longer

by jeolmeoniji



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Family Dynamics, I'm sorry this is sad, M/M, Sad, how to tag raw feelings???, i don't know if i feel better it hurts a lot, i needed to write down my own feelings and that's what i got, johnny and taeil are hyuck's dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeolmeoniji/pseuds/jeolmeoniji
Summary: Donghyuck is not a child, he's twenty-two, but he might as well feel like one all over again. With both his parents in front of him, sitting at that damn kitchen table, with a worried face. Donghyuck still feels the churn in his stomach, the impossibility to smile and that nameless fear because he has no idea why the fuck his parents look so serious and sad.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, broken Moon Taeil/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 12
Kudos: 68





	no longer

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry to make our bear family suffer

First there are the tears.

There are always the tears with him. Not only his own, though; his parents' as well. (Probably those who hurt the most. He's used to crying. It isn't the most painful tears he's had so far, between his panick attacks and anxiety moments. He maybe should feel ashamed, but that's what happened and he can't rewrite this, right?)

Donghyuck still sees the kitchen table, with the white plates in front of the three of them, waiting for food. Johnny – his dad – has bought muffins, still in the paperkraft bag that has darker spots where the good grease of the cake smears. Donghyuck's glass is full of orange juice. He has not touched it when Taeil – his _appa_ – has told him to go ahead and drink and eat a little.

Donghyuck is not a child, he's twenty-two, but he might as well feel like one all over again. With both his parents in front of him, sitting at that damn kitchen table, with a worried face. Donghyuck still feels the churn in his stomach, the impossibility to smile and that nameless fear because he has no idea why the fuck his parents look so serious and sad.

(Donghyuck's anxiety whispers possible answers to him: one of them has been diagnosed with a cancer. Someone in the family has died. So many assumptions like this, that make Donghyuck wants to vomit and cry already.)

(For a second, he's wondered if it was related to Johnny and Taeil's relationship. And then his brain has swept away this thought, with a memory of both his parents holding hands after an evening in a good restaurant they had, the week before. The kind of soft gestures that they would share and that appeased Donghyuck.)

And then the truth hits.

Ah, before the tears, there's a silence, too, because Donghyuck's brain needs to process what his _appa_ has said.

That sometimes, despite everything, they need to think of themselves, they need to let go, and that Taeil is gonna have an apartment in town, and that he's already began to bring stuff there, and that Johnny will keep the house.

(It's Johnny who's always wanted a garden, anyway.)

Donghyuck's parents are splitting up.

Despite how common it may seem – he knows so many friends whose parents are divorced – when Donghyuck realizes it's happening to his own family, he also realizes the pain it means. He's often been bad at assuming what a situation he's never lived must feel like. Now he knows.

The tears burst when Taeil asks with a little voice, _didn't you notice it wasn't like before in the house?_ And Donghyuck's mind provides him moments that he thought were occasional, that he thought didn't mean something bigger, as big as his parents not loving each other anymore.

Both Johnny and Taeil rush to each hold his hands, though, and he's in the middle of them crying like a baby, when his parents are no better than him.

It hurts a lot, but also, surprisingly, there's no anger. How could he be angry at his dad and his _appa_ , who raised him so well, who were always here for him, even when he was being difficult, even if sometimes they couldn't understand him and made mistakes? Donghyuck can't feel himself being angry – of course Johnny and Taeil had their moments where they would scream at each other, but it was always resolved, their love was always stronger than that. Donghyuck had not even realized his parents were thinking of ending their relationship. They had kept it so well locked between themselves that even their own kid had no clue. They had made this to minimize his pain, to show that it had nothing to do with him and that they loved him all the same, that this fact will never change. (Donghyuck knows it's true, and he doesn't think he needed reassurance on that, but he feels a little bit better hearing it.)

The hurt reminds him a bit of his first break-up, the one with Jaehyun. He remembers the hollow moments, the ones he thought he would not survive, like his heart was falling in a pit of endless blackness and he had to call Renjun to think of something else and find his balance again. The break-up he's hidden from his parents until it hurt less, and when he had had the courage to talk about it, Taeil and Johnny had consoled him and then both gifted him stuff to make him feel better – a really flattering shirt that Donghyuck likes to wear when he goes out, and a bag that costs a lot, but his parents have never counted money when it came to him.

(Now Donghyuck has Mark, and he's the happiest with him. They love each other and Donghyuck has planned to leave for Canada in two months for his graduate studies, and he will share a flat with Mark there. Taking a big step in their relationship.)

Donghyuck thinks of how this break-up – this separation – must feel for his parents. It hurts because it's obvious Johnny still loves Taeil – in the way his voice breaks and he cries when he says _I wish it would have been different_. His _appa_ 's sad and guilty wet eyes, hopeless and torn because the love isn't the same anymore from his side.

What can you do when love has left? Can you blame the one you love? Would you dare keeping them caged in a relationship that their heart doesn't belong to anymore?

The separation doesn't really feel real. Donghyuck remembers the story of his parents' first ever meeting (in university, Taeil dropping his coffee on Johnny's jacket, and Johnny using that unfortunate accident as an opportunity to get closer to Taeil) – and now Donghyuck has to be in front of the end of their love story as well.

He remembers Johnny telling that he used to leave little poems and love notes for Taeil to find in their apartment after a long day at work. He remembers Taeil telling him how he would be sad to see his dad leave every Sunday nights, the year Johnny had a job in Busan and they had decided that Taeil would stay in Seoul so Donghyuck would still be with his friends at his school, and Johnny would live in Busan during the week and come back to Seoul for the week-end. (Donghyuck was a bit too young to properly remember those times, but he knows that thanks to his parents' decision, Renjun is still his best friend, still by his side after so many years.)

Donghyuck remembers their lovey-dovey attitude, on Valentine's day, on their birthdays, their anniversaries. He remembers thinking he was so lucky that his parents still loved each other so much and were still together.

But the end of it hurts. The reality is now different.

Donghyuck doesn't touch the muffins on the table, but drinks his glass of orange juice. Taeil drinks his tea, and Johnny his coffee, and he eats a muffin too. The silence is a bit too heavy and it doesn't feel like a usual breakfast and Donghyuck hates it, but he stays on his chair because he knows his parents need him to be here, at least for this breakfast. Donghyuck understands. It's hard and they are lost, too. It's not only hard for him, even if they don't say it and prioritize him. Donghyuck knows he needs to take care of them, too, now, more than before.

Donghyuck needs to leave the house a few hours later for work – after he's spent time in his bed, crying, because he needed time alone, after he's scrolled through his social medias but has not contacted anyone. He keeps the pain and the truth for himself first, to brew the feelings like coffee beans, to dissect what's happening as if it would make him understand better. He's not sure it's working. He really doesn't know.

The day passes quickly because he's focused on his work, but the tears come and go sometimes, and he does his best to keep it at bay, or for people not to see him with tears on his cheeks.

He tells the truth to Renjun with a text, and he calls Mark on his way back from work, stopping at the park near his parents' (now only his dad's?) house, telling him everything and crying his heart out once again. He doesn't really remember what he says, mostly that it hurts, that he feels guilty to leave so soon for Canada when something so big is happening in his family.

But both Johnny and Taeil had told him that he needs to live his life, to focus on his studies, to do just as he's planned.

He knows it's the best decision, because he has all his life to build, and probably in a few months it'll hurt less. (Please, can the time make it hurt less.)

When he comes back home, Taeil has left for his apartment, and Johnny smiles at him as if everything is normal – it's the new normal for them, now.

There is the comfort food that makes it feel a little bit better. His dad asking him what he wants to eat for dinner, and this sudden craving for the light rice with vegetables that his parents always cooked for him since he was a child, when he was sick. The same special rice brand that weirdly they exclusively use for this dish, the same diced tomatoes and zucchinis, and when the dish is made, after a bite Donghyuck feels a bit lighter. To have this taste that reminds him of the days of his childhood where his parents were still together, the taste that is supposed to make his illness go away, and this time again it feels like a little bandage, on his mind.

Before going to bed, and after telling good night to his dad, Donghyuck takes his phone and texts his _appa_ , “Good night”, because he knows that even if his appa has taken the decision to leave, he must feel as sad as them.

(When Donghyuck wakes up the next day, Taeil has sent him back _thank you my fullsun_ , and the use of his childhood nickname makes Donghyuck want to cry so hard.)

The next days are Donghyuck trying to act as if everything is normal – trying to adjust without looking like it.

Like Taeil coming back for lunch, the three of them at the table, having a normal conversation, but Taeil leaving after that, with new bags in his hands.

Donghyuck thinks of the random details, too.

The wedding anniversary present that Donghyuck had offered his parents earlier in the year, that is a week-end in a spa for both of them that they haven't used yet and will probably never use together.

The special sauce that only Taeil knows how to do, and that suddenly they need for the dinner Johnny has suggested.

The little silence after his dad reminisces a memory of the three of them when everything was still fine – the realization it's sad that it's a bit awkward to talk about it when it still hurts.

The big house that will only have Johnny alone once Donghyuck will move out, too.

Maybe he should suggest his dad to adopt a dog. Johnny has always had a soft spot for dogs, and Donghyuck remembers their family dog Sunshine. (He also remembers the grief when she left them.) But Donghyuck feels responsible – he doesn't know if he should. Johnny is not good at staying alone – and suddenly their big house feels too hollow, without Taeil. When Donghyuck will leave for Canada with Mark, he doesn't want his dad to feel like everyone has left his side.

It's weird, to feel like this, as if suddenly Donghyuck was the parent and Johnny the child.

And then sometimes, suddenly, Donghyuck stops loosing himself in all the little details, and the bigger picture reappears. He's walking out of the bus and the reality comes back – it's weird to think it has left his mind for a while, even if he feels like he only thinks of it. The fact that Johnny and Taeil are not together anymore, that they have decided to stop their relationship, to split up and continue their lives without each other in such a special place in their heart.

It makes Donghyuck's head spin.

It's only been a few days, it's only the beginning, it's normal he still feels lost, submerged, a bit suffocating when it's becoming too bad, too much.

And it's weird because the more he thinks of it the less it makes sense, the more he realizes he doesn't understand. The facts are so trivial, so simple, but in Donghyuck's mind it doesn't make sense, because he needs to rethink everything, to shift what he's assumed the future would look like – a house where both Johnny and Taeil would wait for him and Mark, when they come visit for a week-end like the good son and son-in-law they are, when Donghyuck would have finished his graduate studies abroad, when he'll have a stable life on his own with Mark by his side.

And between everything, the sea of raw emotions, of sadness, of resignation, of hurt, because it's still too soon, way to soon, to act as if he's over it and as if everything is normal, Donghyuck focuses on one thing, the thing that he knows won't change between him and his parents, even if it has change between his two parents: the fact that he loves them, and that they love him.

This simple sentence, _I love you_ , that seems so little but is so powerful.

And Donghyuck desperatly clings to it.

It'll hurt less soon.

**Author's Note:**

> my parents announced they are splitting up and i'm trying to cope and as always i poured my feelings in a ff. sorry if it's sad, if it's bad, etc. tbh i don't even know if writing this made me feel better but it's out there now after 3 hours word-vomitting it
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jeolmeoniji)


End file.
